back of my hands are cold
I shiver at the thought of death
creeping on me invisibly
he dares not show his face
knowing I won’t go easily
temptation placed on hold
insulated from princely wrath
replaced by deceit and trickery
dancing in sweet embrace
revolving throughout eternity
october two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I wasn’t looking for anything
which was the whole point
out of the blue I discovered the knowledge
I thought I had acquired over the years
has been with me all along
year by year and one by one
I give up that which was given to me
whether I had wanted it or not
whether I had loved it
or hated it
or felt entirely indifferent toward it
there is truth and there is trust
neither quite like the other
but both touchable and tastable
as fleeting as death itself
and so when I am busily digging
not looking for anything in particular
I find myself uncovering
that which is worth dying for
october two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
how do I replace all the friends
I’ve lost along the way
at what point will it be the end
of the road for me
it’s silly to dwell on such thoughts
but sometimes ego
unexpectedly takes over
suggesting I fall to my knees
road signs keep cropping up
further and further from the city
expanding the time it takes
to find inner peace
meanwhile I sit idly by
counting virtual dollars in the
palm of my hand
waiting somewhat impatiently
october two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
at first there were a dozen of us
(actually a baker’s dozen)
and we knew everything
there was to know
about each and every one of us
one by one each of us fell
but most of us got back up
but that was seemingly
centuries ago when we didn’t
realize not all stars shine
and the moon can be visible
on the brightest of days
(not having all the facts)
nonetheless we made a pact
heart to heart
and eye to eye
promising nothing
except for inevitably
going our separate ways
december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I did not know her
but I was compelled
to find her final resting place
it was a bright but cold december day
but I kept warm in the car
driving mindlessly past corn fields
mile after mile after mile
stripped clean yet ruggedly barren
the interstate traffic was heavy
and I wondered how many seekers
if any
had set off on a journey
to find her final resting place
google maps told me how to get there
but I only had to read the directions once
and when I got there
it was as if I had been there all along
december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
oh glorious night settle into darkness
and let me tell thee whom I give my life
I belong neither to sky above nor sea below
and from all accounts was burst forth from
scorpius some thirty-three light years ago
though my days on earth have been counted
on one thousand and one hands
it is a far cry to say this was ever my home
for the glory of goodness lives not here
but rather in a place and time that knows no end
november two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
descending into madness at midnight
I pull pieces of bread from my pockets
feeding them to my soul
in the morning I take tylenol
and pour raw milk onto a
bowl of rice krispies
listening to vague childhood memories
in the middle of the afternoon the full
moon hides behind marshmallow clouds
my conscience reminding me
(as I fall into a self-induced slumber)
how everything becomes edible in the end
november two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
a thin vapor trail
slipped in through the front door
but nobody was home
if I had been there
I would have noticed something
was quite different
but I was gone on a
journey of a lifetime
the place had not changed
all these years
everything perfectly in place
as if nobody had really
lived there
while my mind wandered
away from worldly ideals
seeking out transcendental gurus
residing on new moons
my spirit remained behind
waiting patiently
to be seen
april two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
what have I contributed
to the cause
keeping the music alive and
guarding elephants
from poachers
I’ve given up aerosol sprays
and gasoline
marlboro lights
store-bought soup
and religion
how much more do I have to give
that constant humming in my ear
is that just a warning from
my guardian angel
or simply a reminder
how those widely admired
can easily be swept away
like a night owl’s prey
silently screaming
absolution doesn’t exist
in the blink of an eye
and even if it did
no act of contrition could
prevent anyone from
seeing the light
january two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
there is death in the desert
and death in the sea
there is death in the streets of paris
and on the avenue of the saints
in the halls of washington the president
designs death in new ways
and those around him applaud
and he smiles
in the meantime he decries death in the theater
and death in the schools
and his people will pretend they don’t know
what is causing all the death
they are too busy with their own superficial lives
to question why army drones are supplying weapons
to enemy camps and into the
hands of every enemy of every nation
they are numb to the concept of violent death
because it is simply ingrained into their psyche
and they spoon-feed it to their children
in the form of horrific death on television screens
on movie screens and computer screens
on the tiniest of handheld screens
the idea of mass death does not faze them
and when a day goes by without it
they think something must be wrong
and when dreamers talk of peace they laugh
because they know peace is unnatural
and takes too much effort to pull off
and so death simply goes on
long after the final curtain call
november two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
repetition of living has taken its toll
on my susceptible shell
altering its physicalities
while heightening my emotions
determined to keep my thoughts
in proper order
I focus on an energy
that is bound to send me skyward
nothing can take away the color
of those changing leaves
or the rippling of streaming water
polishing age-old rocks
nothing can erase the rising
of an off-white moon
or the setting of a kaleidoscope sun
nothing will remove the sounds of laughter
on a summer afternoon
or the sadness trapped inside
melancholy sighs
stepping forward and upward
effortlessly
I shed the weight of the world
and all that it entails
sailing away while looking back
at an endless recollection
october two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
everyone I know is getting older
and some are even dying without
a moment’s notice
never getting a chance to say
good-bye
good-bye
good-bye sweet world
in the grocery store I ran into Joe
and asked him how his wife was doing
she’s gone man where have you been
I’m sorry I say and walk away
out in the parking lot everyone is
a ghost of their former selves
systematically going about their lives
running out of bright ideas
to reverse the inevitable
but not me I am perfectly fine
no wrinkles on my face
a rosy glow still on my cheeks
I tell myself this is the last time
I’m going shopping here
and I rev up the engine and
drive my case of american pale ale
back home where we belong
august two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
her lover took her by the hand
leading her to places
she’s never seen before
sounds from the inside inaudible
feet kicking as they scale uphill
there are higher places to climb
than here he tells her
pointing to a pale moon in the blue sky
day surrendered to the stars
her lover reminding her of that night
when nightingales sang lullabies
and wildflowers covered their eyes
there are higher places to climb
than here he tells her
embracing the beauty of their heartbeats
morning arrived and she boarded
the hot air balloon
sailed away weeping and waving
her lover cradling a silent child
promising her all the world
would one day know her name
may two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
these fears inside I lay to rest
as setting sun bows and
curtsies one final time
I’m off to chase grander stars
hosting brighter moons
orbiting other oceans
sent on my merry way
accidentally
a victim so it seems
partially of my own accord
there are no sad marches
no guns to be fired
no motorcycle escorts
no victory day parades
there are no flowers or polaroids
or guestbooks or folded flags
no children sniffling
or women weeping
from now on the future
is my present
and whatever good I left behind
would one day become
a necessary ingredient
to grow the shadiest of trees
january two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
it just sucks
all this is going on and one day
nothing matters
none of it matters
and you’re gone
and there’s nothing more
who’s to say there’s nothing more
she says
sitting back in her director’s chair
legs crossed and freshly shaved
don’t go there he says
don’t you dare go there
maybe death is a good thing she says
maybe it’s the start of something new
and hopelessly beautiful
just like this glass of champagne
maybe we shouldn’t be buying champagne
he says
maybe we should be buying real estate
yes she says
a change of scenery would do you wonders
january two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
taking trails less traveled
led me to where the
trees had fallen
where horses long ago
abandoned the woods
falling to my knees I
listened ‘neath the silence
felt inner earth’s heartbeat
inside my very bones
faintly alive and hurting
lost generations remain
charred in this place
recycled into ghostly ashes
reshaped into
ever-changing apparitions
silence ensued and robbed
me of all my thoughts
leading me to believe
the only way out was
through my imagination
october two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved